


A Portrait in Red and White

by HolmesianDeduction



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Aromantic, Asexual Character, M/M, Possibly Aromantic at least, well sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesianDeduction/pseuds/HolmesianDeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short, possibly modern!AU E/R prompt fill based on the following lines from Laura Marling's <i>"Goodbye England (Covered in Snow)"</i>:</p><p> <i>"You were so smart then,</i><br/><i>in your jacket and coat.</i><br/><i>My softest red scarf was warming your throat."</i></p><p>I should probably note that I've written Enjolras as probably asexual and possibly aromantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Portrait in Red and White

             ”You never did love me.”

             ”That never stopped you.”

             ”You don’t deny it, then?”

             There’s a flash of golden curls as frigid marble fingers unwind the red wool from around his throat, his eyes hardened, full lips pressed together in a thin line that tugged down at the edges.  Folding the scarf over, he offers it to the other man.  ”Do you want it back then?”

             ”No.”  Then: “You know damn well I don’t.”

             A soft huff of just-visible breath materialises between them, but the hand holding the scarf doesn’t change position.  Instead, it’s his voice, deathly soft and almost accusing, which moves through the empty space between them.  ”You knew what it meant.”

             The wind ruffles the unruly dark mass of the other’s hair as his eyes flicker momentarily downwards.  For once, he’s found himself entirely speechless.

             ”You knew.”  He presses, his fingers clenched around the scarf, a spark of something like anger leaping into his pale irises.

             ”You said that you wanted me.”  The phrase is simple, almost deceptively so, but for the moment it is all he has to offer.

             ”It’s not the same thing!”  Exasperation creeps into his voice, curls the edges of his lips, and it is all his companion can do not to mentally compare his expression to the cruel beauty of stone seraphim carved into cathedral walls.  But then the words come, each one sharper and more heavily barbed than the last.  ”You knew full and well that it wasn’t the same thing.  I made it very clear where I stood, and you -“

             ”And I accepted it.”  Cutting in, one hand wound tightly in his hair, the other reaching for the scarf, he swallows hard around the tightness in his throat.  ”I get it.  You don’t have to go on.”  His voice is barely audible as it escapes his lips, the scarf draping limply over his shaking fingers.  Then, almost on a whim, he adds “I meant it.  I wanted - still want - you.”

             The muscles of his jaw clench just beneath the surface of his skin and even in the cold air, a fine dusting of sweat has plastered one of his golden ringlets to his forehead, and it’s almost too much to take.  ”Wanting to -” his lips curled around the words in an expression of distaste, “to fuck me is not the same thing as wanting me.”

             The frostiness of his voice would ordinarily be more than enough to send most people scurrying, but instead his companion takes a hesitant step forward, his voice unusually meek in the face of the blond’s anger.  ”I know that.”  He pauses, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips nervously.  ”And while I would certainly…while I do find that appealing,” the other man begins to turn away and he speeds up in a sudden rush of adrenaline, “I want you.  In whatever way.”

             At his words, the blond stops and glances back, and seizing his chance, he swallows hard, offering up the scarf with both hands, a note of pleading entering his voice.  ”I am yours.  I always have been.  I’ll take whatever you offer.”

             There is a long silence.  Another visible huff of breath from between perfect lips.  And finally, the blond head bows slightly and allows for a slightly courser pair of hands to wrap the scarf around his neck.


End file.
